12.26.04 - 1:14 p.m.
i am a homewrecker.
no seriously, i am a completely bad person since i came back into the 'sin city' that i grew up in for the fair xmas season this year.
granted, i have been burnt out, not getting any satisfactory lovin' lately, and truly desperate to have soem relax time.
now, all that is changed. i want to go back to my safe little haven of work, where i have no chance of being a bad person, 'cause really, opportunities are limited and apparently i don't do well with thhe whole idea of 'self-restraint'... lemme give you an example...along the tune of the twelve days of christmas..this will explain my previous stress prior to the holidays, and how i am really not helping myself make it any better. trying, but really failing.. i'm like that sometimes: my own worst enemy:
On The First Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By dating again....
I figured, why not. i mean, everyone keeps on telling me that my cyncism is keeping me from finding nice guys, that if i just put myself out there, i would be meeting 'the one'. besides being vaguely confused over whether its Mr.right, or Ms. or Mr.right-now is the better fit in my life currently is a whole different debate i barely have the energy for. but meeting people seems to be what seems to gets everybody anxious ("are you MEETING guys? are you going to the right places to meet guys? maybe if you got some hobbies?"... for the record, i got that hobbie thing last fall... lasted maybe four sessions of kayaking before i was 1)bored out of my tree, because learning how to roll in a pool is the most boring kayking i've ever done in my life(give me a river any day), and 2) i was super busy, and 3)some bastard stole half of my 70$ bathing suit. that was it. i was done with the fucking 'hobbies').
so i went on the date and it wasn't painful, but it wasn't particularly interesting either. somehow, i sensed over the hour and a half drink period this guy wasn't my type and really wasn't gonna be anytime soon. he was the 'adapter' type though, constantly shifting thoughts and opinions to match mine:
him: "blah blah...and that whole approving gay marriage thing, how sick is that?"
me: "really? you don't think its that marriage is an evolving definition, with so few traditional pairings in the world these days, that blatant discrimination seems a little archaic?"
him:"well, i guess live and let live.."
he walked me to my door and i said 'maybe some other time, though i'm really busy'. fellas, that is a slammed door on any booty call. i was relieved. i went 'out there', there was nothing there, i get to stay home for another couple weeks.
On The Second Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By giving some guy a glimmer of hope.....
as much as i thought, a "maybe" "but i'm really busy" response was to the most people a 'okay she's not interested romantically' kind of thing, he took as, 'she is so in love with me that it hurts her, and she has become shy with her feelings... i must carefully open up her heart by sending her slightly psychotic emails confessing my true love for her, thereby making it easier for her to express her love for me"
the first email the next day was something along the lines of "hey, had fun, hope we can do it again sometime". i thought, cute, polite, but i'm really not that interested. i set the email aside in a 'to be answered pile' till later. the second email was more "hey, i keep thinking about you, your hair, your eyes, the way you tug on your lower lip while you think". hmm... okay, i have yet to get around to answering the first one, and am unsure how to respond to this second one. it goes in the pile for me to think about later. the third email that day (arriving about 3pm now) was all "you know, i really felt a connection between us, and i really want to cook you dinner, spagetti? .. tomorrow night, yada yada...my sauce will tingle on your lips" yes, i am aware of how that sounds by the way. it went on the pile for me to answer later. i worked late that night, and the fourth email was waiting for me when i got home (note that i have made no edits to this, this is pure him):
From: louis-f�lix
To: (crickets sing for) anna-maria
Subject: another mindnumbing flashbulb implosion
ten o'clock. as i walked by your house, not a soul, not the shadow of a lightbulb shouting out your window. cold air on my cheeks slowly creeping down into my lungs through the rubber barbwire of my vocal accords. a thought dug a sound tunnel out through my ear and escaped my skull to float into the nightly void. it went looking for you and your witty mouths that send esoteric messages in the form of babbling eyelids or unengaged shoulder softskin. it probably crawled to the lab first, see if you were not changing phase or being genetically undressed by some microscopic mutant amalgamation of jaws and spirits. if you were not there, at the lab, then it certainly dispersed into unconscious shards of liquid melancholy to infiltrate the realm of peacefulness you walk on sometimes without even realising. especially when out of the corner of your smiles, a river of stars draws necklesses around my one-of-a-kind normal mind. underneath the young furry hat trick and the agave plants, your ornamental chants then web a gentle coat of sweetly sprinkled powdered sugar so that every thought my brain sputters like an old taco into the noisy atmosphere is born with diabetes and you are the insulin. i waited a while, walking some steps further, before the now-warm cold air started creeping back up and through the rhubarbwire again. in a breath, a thought had left my head while thousand more jeopardised plans to overtake a disenchanted carpet plant and turn it into sexy papier m�ch� flowers the tigers could feed upon, leaving me aghast with the scattered scattering marbles, nose bleeding in the comet tail of evanescence that lead to your lips. red lip, red service. red you rose and i follow, i trail. five minutes into your life. minute and strong.
f.
i think there is very little i could add to that...
On The Third Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By looking up from my desk at work.....
this guy came by my office the other week to ask me about some science questions he had about my particular field of study. happens all the time, its kinda what the academic environment is like... i'm always phoning, emailing or dropping by strange offices, to ask the opinion of one person or another about some obscure area that they know about. and, as people in academics are by and large pretty odd bunch of people, it does not really ring alarm bells as such... then he came aroudn a couple times since to "chat" ... i was busy most times and sent him away. he called my cell phone after some idiot in the lab gave it to him. i said i was busy. i came in today to find a 'song' written for me on my desk. it was written on 13 year old boy stationary (baseball theme) and was along the lines of "blow a strong wind across my boat, disturb my seas like a graceful whale... " i was freaked by the persistent calling of my cell that afternoon (thankgod for caller ID..14 calls total) and the mere idea that my work place was becoming an area for this kind of crap. not to mention some of the other, more explicit parts of the song directed towards my anatomy. .. i was on the phone to my mom on the way home, going "why me? what am i doing wrong to attract this attention".. got home and a note from "f " ie; boy outside my window, was pinned to my apartment door (NOTE: ONE NEEDS A KEY OR SOMEONE TO LET THEM IN TO GET THAT FAR IN MY BUILDING).. and i walked in to find a man crouching in my bedroom closet. i screamed and threw a lamp at him. my idiot landlord who didn't warn me about his visit to fix the fucking closet doors is freaked out , and i am crying hysterically, unable to say anything in french or english, just keep sobbing about that there is 'nowhere to go to get away from this crap'...scott had to come over to calm me down.
On The Fourth Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By going to the office xmas party....
all i can say about this is:
drinks
dinner
lab mates are awesome
more drinks
i love all of them even more
more drinks and a joint
christ, these are the most awesome groups of people i have ever known. i love you man!
dancing
i am a dancing queen. in fact, i request abba to prove this.
more drinks. I LOVE YOU MAN!
i get grabbed by the 'in house' song writer. my friends drag me away. three more times people have to get between us and tell him to go away.
i am a dancing queen and i love everybody.
my supervisor, as drunk and stoned as myself, asks me 'who are you anne?'.. a drunken conversation along these lines ensues...
i pass out in my office @ 4am...
On The Fifth Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By getting incredibly drunk...
i am hungover when i wake up. so hungover, that it is 7:30 in the morning and i can't sleep. i meet up with scott for breakfast. i throw up in three public bathrooms along the way and manage to down half a cup of coffee at the restaurant. i go back to my office to nap on the floor. i want to die, but am unable to move enough to drive home and die in bed where it would be more comfy. i get this email from the songwriter:
From: Roger
To: anne-marie
Subject: Party incident!
Hello!
The party is still going on right now. I sincerely believe we were talking nicely when we got interrupted by that woodcutter.
I couldn't help reaching my laptop to speak out.
Tell me, Are you dating That rude disrespectful lumberman?
I was astonished, I still have difficulty believing that a guy can just walk in, no matter the relationship between him and a girl and literally order her to get back into the pack! And she would just obey...
Please Tell me I am wrong , because I could not imagine such a scene in Canada. If that was true, then I understand why you were so ill-at-ease with the song. Then I would just ask you, for god sake, to send it back to me., for you can get hurt if he reads it. The return address is Laboratoire de ***************.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Roger, once your song writer.
I wonder, yet again, what planet these men live on and what i do to attract their attention. then my mother phones. my father is arriving in less than an hour to quebec, i am hungover and not happy about the sudden "i'll just pop into quebec" change of plans. she then informs me that he'll be driving with me to halifax when i leave for xmas holidays. 12 hours in a car with my dad, who hasn't sat still since 1972. he arrives and his ADD method of filling up every spare second of time makes my head hurt for the rest of the day..
On The Sixth Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By letting my dad fix my car....
he says he can do it. he says that it'll be easy, that he has a masters and PhD in engineering, what could possibly go wrong, that he'll just take a look, and if it looks too complicated, he'll take it to a garage, never mind that i am leaving for home tomorrow, have a million and one errands to run prior to me escaping quebec, and that time is ticking away.
let me give you a time line for this:
6:35am "are you up yet anne? i'll make coffee if you want" i yell that its still pitch blacl outside and i'm not moving, so go back to bed.
6:37am "what do you want in your coffee?"
6:39am "how do i hook up to your internet? i need to check on the office"
6:48am (directed loudly into his cell phone) "well, you're the vice president of the company, you're supposed to be able to cover these decisions when i'm not there"
6:53am (directed into his cell phone) "well, who's on that site today? can't gerry fly up? yes, i know its xmas week and he has two small kids, but that ferry runs twice a week, he should get back in time"
7:06am "anne, where are the keys to your car? i heard a ticking sound yesterday"
7:07am "jezus, its cold out there. where are your tools?"
7:15am "do you have a manual for the tercel?"
7:28am (directed into cell phone) "I...WANT....THE....NUMBER, uh... NUMERO...for TOW TRUCK....TOW TRUCK....uh.. le voiture pour PULLING les autres voitures"
8:18am "they say it'll take 6 hours"
all this before my first cup of coffe, and we are supposed to be driving to halifax today.
we are late leaving and have to return after being 1 hour out of quebec for the 200$ worth of smelly cheese my father insisted on buying and promptly forgot in my fridge. because it is about -25 out, the windshield washer fluid has frozen, and i have to spray the windshield after every truck passes us. there are alot of trucks. one of my two cats gets nervous and pees on my dad, making him and me smell like pee the rest of the trip. my dad starts asking like crazy man and makes up arbitrary rules along the way, like "no stopping to eat till new brunswick" we arrive in halifax at 7 in the morning. i am almost crying i am so tired....
On The Seventh Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By staying at my brothers place..
we got in a 7am. mark jumps on me at 930am as if we were still 7 years old, and seems surprised to find i am not in a pleasant mood. spend the day trying to get rid of the pee smell and driving to the ferry. my dad bails out on me and decides to fly home to st.j's...
On The Eight Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By beign incredibly tired and having to drive 12 hours with no sleep, two cats, a pee-smelling car and icy roads.
need i say more? i love my cats, but i nearly sold them to a chinese restaurant in gander if they had whined at me once more. everytime they meowed, i'd yell back "oh yeah, you think YOU have it bad?"
On The Ninthth Day Of Xmas, I Fucked Myself Over By getting drunk and breaking into a boat.....
ahhh... back in newfie, lovely town, and everyone is feeling festive....
but this part of the story will take longer to explain,..... to be continued...
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fucked up before - fucked up after
